Not All Who Wander Are Lost
by Marie Phantom
Summary: At the International University, Ludwig is baffled by the attitudes of the people he meets, and especially by the cheeriness of a certain Italian painter. But secrets long hidden are now coming to light which will influence the lives of everyone there.
1. Prologue

**A/N Its been a while, hasn't it? I haven't neglected my other stories, but if I don't write this I will go bonkers. New fandom, same writer. As always, flames will not be tolerated, and until some kind souls offers their services, this will also be unbetad. I don't know whether this classifies as an AU or not, but I hope that it will keep even the most rabid fan amused and entertained.**

**Warnings: violence in the first chapter, racists slurs, angst, sexual situations later. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that may be recognised, sadly. If I did, Germany would have kissed Italy a LONG time ago!**

The change was slow at first, so slow that most of them didn't even notice. England would make a suggestion, and be told that his suggestion was not in the interest of the British Empire. France tried to suggest something other than constant warfare, something that would help boost the economy of his country, like farming, and would be ignored. America would try desperately to keep himself together, as his country geared up towards civil war, and be shouted down in the Presidents office, something that had never happened before.

Even the Italies found themselves becoming more and more ostracised from their government, something that had never happened before.

As the 19th century drew to a close, things happened at a faster pace. Walking into his Palace one day, Sweden found himself barred from entering, and was told that the royal family didn't want to see him. He went home, confused and agitated, to find himself in an empty house. Finland was missing.

Russia woke up one day to find himself confined to his house, unable to leave. His sisters, Belarus and Ukraine, were dragged into the house three days later. Belarus had her hair cut off, and Ukraine wouldn't speak. Russia didn't need to ask what had happened to them. He just hugged his sisters and prayed that everything would be alright.

In Prussia, the former super power, it was as bad. Prussia himself had not left his rooms for weeks, lest something happen to the blond lying in the bed. He didn't trust the guards at his door not to do something to the former Holy Roman Empire. His red eyes solemn, he glanced at the door and then down in the bed, where his brother sweated.

"Keep breathing, Bruderling, please." He pleaded, running a hand through short blond hair.

England was slowly coming to terms that he himself was not allowed to move from his own house, and so he let himself dream of a better time. His brothers, Ireland and Wales, and his sister Scotland, had disappeared long ago.

Canada was confined to a small room in America's house, not even allowed to see his brother. American himself had not seen the daylight for 10 months.

Netherlands, Belgium and Luxembourg had confined themselves to a windmill outside of Amsterdam, not allowed to enter the city for fear of persecution.

Switzerland, Austria, Hungary and Liechtenstein had been cooped together in the same dungeon for nearly a year before they were allowed to wash.

The change was gradual, so slow that by the time the nations realised that they were being taken away from their own countries, separated from the land that they had claim to. It was a physical ache to them, not being able to touch their land, to influence their people, to see the sun.

It was the first time in the history of the world where countries had come together in unison and harmony, but their agenda was far from peaceful.

On the 20th June 1899, the leaders of every single country in the world met to decide what would be done with the personifications of their nations.

On the 25th, the decision was made.

On the 30th, the plan was carried out.

They were driven in trucks, big cattle trucks, where they were crammed cheek by jowl.

No one complained. It was a long drive, and each person took turns in sitting down, every person agreeing that the young ones would be allowed sit on the floor indefinitely.

The drive took three days and three nights, and when the time came for them to be unloaded from the trucks, most of them could barely stand. When the door was opened, the people closest to the exit fell to the floor.

"Get up," the guard grunted, poking the prone body of Seychelles with the point of his gun. "Get up and walk, blackie."

"Leave her alone.," croaked Cuba, picking up the small island country by the arm and hefting her over his shoulder.

"Out you get." The guard ignored Cuba, and yelled to the other countries as they shuffled into the sun. China and his family blinked, huddling close together as they staggered out of the truck. They weren't the only ones staggering. Out of a neighbouring truck, Wales carried the prone body of his sister Scotland, whilst Ireland and England helped each other walk. Behind them, Europe staggered out in drabs, most of the countries unable to walk in a straight line due to starvation and atrophy of the muscles.

Prussia helped his brother walk down the ramp, the newly christened Germany barley able to see as fever raged in his body. Behind him, the Italies followed, both too scared to cry. South Italy clutched at Spain's hand, unable to protest at the display of affection.

When all of the countries had climbed out of the trucks, and stood blinking at the dull sky, the guards stood in front of their trucks, and the guard who had offended Seychelles grinned and uttered one word.

"Run."

He pointed his gun at Seychelles, and fired, putting a hole through her shoulder.

Hungary screamed, and bolted in the opposite direction. The field in the middle of Russia, the most isolated place that could be thought of, became a field of blood. Hungary only got three yards before she was shot in the spine, with Austria following soon afterwards.

Denmark soon found Norway, who was crouched by the still body of his brother, pleading with the island to wake up, please wake up! Denmark tried to grab Norways shoulder, but found himself meeting empty air when Norway himself collapsed, a hole in his head ending his life.

The Asian countries didn't make it far before they too were gunned down, none of them able to move without leaving the rest of their family. In his last dying moments, Japan crawled to the body of a brown haired man, who was weeping tears of blood.

"Please," whispered the man.

"Soon." Japan said, laying a hand over his eyes and laying down beside him.

Russia didn't make it a step before he body failed him, the blood on his land too much to bare. Ukraine had died in the truck, and Belarus made it the furthest before she too was hit.

When Switzerland ran at the gunmen, they laughed, and shot him many times. Liechtenstein cried out in horror, and tried to run towards him, but was dragged back by a man with a scar on his head, and a bloodied blue and white scarf.

"Run, please run!" he cried. He didn't get further, before he whirled around and took the bullet meant for her. Liechtenstein cried, and joined him.

Finland was finally reunited with his husband, and he wept loud tears and he rocked back and forth, clutching the body to his breast.

Egypt and Turkey had fallen together, each holding a hand.

England ran until he found America, and did not run further. He lay beside the body of his former colony, kissed his forehead, closed his eyes, and did not breathe again.

France tried to run, he really did, but when he found the body of Scotland, who like Ukraine had died before shots could be fired, he simply stood and waited to be gunned down.

Spain himself didn't get far feeling a bite into his thigh, and he fell down with a cry.

"Spain!" Romano cried, and pulled him up by the shoulder.

"Leave me, run! Please Romano, save yourself!" Spain pushed him away, and fell down.

"No, I wont leave you, I wont!"

"Now is not the time to be stubborn, please Romano, go!" Spain's cries didn't matter. Romano had remained too still for too long.

"Fratello!" Veneciano cried. He tried to move towards his brother, but a strong hand grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"No, Italy no!" Italy turned his head and saw Prussia staggering away, heaving a blond over his shoulder and Italy by the arm.

"My brother, take my brother." Prussia pushed the blond into Italy's arms and staggered back into the field, following the blood to a blond haired, violet eyed man, who lay staring with blank eyes at the sky. Prussia folded himself on the ground, and knew no more.

Italy found himself running as fast as he could, trying to help the young blond nation to escape, to live. He didn't get far, when, like his friends, he felt the bite of the bullet in his back, and he fell. The blond man tumbled to the ground, not moving except to breathe harshly in the cold air.

"Danke," he rasped, turning his head to look into Italy's eyes, "danke for trying."

"Si." Italy said no more, not until he looked deeply into the pools of blue and realised that he knew that face. His eyes watered. "Holy Rome."

"Was?"

"You…are…Holy Rome." Italy gasped, crawling closer to his former love. He grasped those strong hands and kissed them. "I know your face."

"Ich heisse Germany." The blond nation shook his head.

"You may have a different name, but I know your face." Italy kissed him on the cheek, and lay against his chest, now gasping for air. Germany himself did nothing, but clutched at the hand holding his, and stared at the sky, tears leaking into his hair.

When the last cries had finished, and the field was silent, the men, laughing and joking, packed up their trucks and left.

The field was filled with smoke, and the bodies of the former countries lay on the ground, growing cold and hard.

"Why?" asked the red haired woman, bending down and closing the eyes of South Korea.

"Humans are arrogant." The silver haired man, the tallest of the group, replied. He walked to where Russia and Ukraine lay, and gazed at them sadly.

"I don't know." A similarly silver haired man stood over the bodies of the Nordics, his eyes looking at the figures of the broken Scandinavians. He eyed Sweden and Finland, who were curled in a circle around the shadow body of a young boy. A boy who possessed bushy eyebrows and light brown hair. Scandinavia shook his head. The death of a boy who didn't even exist hurt him more than he could say.

Two women, both so similar and yet so different, walked through the bodies, each identifying who was who and how they died. They didn't say anything, but their silence spoke for itself.

"I shall kill them." The man with the noble presence, the one dressed in the armour of an imperial solider growled into the still air. His companion didn't say anything, but his frown deepened, and his green eyes looked with sorrow on the broken bodies of the former nations.

"How did they die?" The red haired women asked. A dark skinned lady shook her head, her black hair moving slowly in the breeze.

"They died because they were killed by humans." The Roman Empire spoke, his voice shaking with anger and hurt. Germania nodded and went to close the eyes of his grandson, Germany. His hand shook as he laid it on the face of the country, who had been so young and at the same time so old.

Britannia shook with anger, and beside her, Ancient Greece and Ancient Egypt held hands and offered her support. Agu shook with sorrow behind them, and Ancient Egypt reached out and arm and laid it on her shoulder, drawing her into the circle.

"Can we bring them back?" Kievan Rus asked, standing by the body of his children.

"No. Can we?" Scandinavia asked, turning questioning eyes to Rome.

There was a silence, before a soft voice said "Yes." The ex nations turned to the dark haired man, standing in the distance staring into space.

"Iberia, it is impossible." Rome said, walking towards him.

"Why is it?" Iberia asked. He turned solemn brown eyes to Rome, and Rome frowned again. His mind was whirling.

Was it possible?

"They were not humans. They were the land, and the land still exists." Germania said. His eyes followed Rome and he wore a cautious expression, like he was too scared to hope.

"But we died!" Britannia cried, stepping foreword and striking her breast. "We died and left the land!"

"No." Scandinavia argued. "We were replaced, we did not leave without just cause. It was our time."

There was silence, before Ancient Greece spoke slowly.

"Would it…be possible? Can it be done?"

"Maybe. They are," Iberia grimaced, "WERE the essence of the land. Technically as long as the land exists, so must they."

"How, how could it be done?" Agu asked.

"The traditional way how humans are made." Rome grinned, and Germania groaned.

"But we don't exist, how do we ensure this?" Keiven Rus asked. His purple eyes shone with excitement.

"We are here now, aren't we? The status quo is altered, the world needs balance." Germania argued.

"But not now." Iberia said, standing in their group.

"Not now." Rome agreed. He looked at the body of his heir, clutching the hand of his former lover. He smiled a gentle smile and looked at the rest of the group, at the rest of the Ancients.

"But soon, very soon."


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N Chapter 1 is here! Please be kind, this is my first Hetalia fanfiction, and I really want to do this genre justice. **

**Reviews are greatly appreciated and welcome.**

**If I can, I will try and update once a week. If a new chapter is not there one week, then it will defiantly be there by the next week!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, although if I did, Germany, Veneciano and every else would be in my basement for my pleasure! Mwahahahahahahahahahahaha**

"Is it time?"

Brown eyes closed, and then opened with a smile.

"Yes. It's time."

:

:

Ludwig Bielschmidt had been waiting for this moment his entire life. He had geared his studies towards this, worked hard, achieved good grades, and now, one the eve of his admission to the _Offizierschule des Heeres, _his Vati had decided to drop this bombshell on him.

"You are going to the International University in Bern, Switzerland, and you will not go anywhere else."

The silence that followed that statement was deafening, and even Gilbird, perched as usual atop Gilbert's head, did not cheep. Ludwig stared at his father in horror, slowly going white.

"What?" he whispered.

"You are going to Bern, and that is final."

"Why?"

Aldrich looked over the top of his newspaper, and glared at his youngest. "I will not change my mind. You are going to University in Switzerland with your brother, and there will be no arguments to the contrary."

Ludwig glanced at his brother, but seeing as there was no help coming from that area, he looked agonizingly at his father. Aldrich ignored him, and turned the page of his newspaper slowly, dragging out the already awkward silence. His glasses slid down to the end of his nose, and he pushed them back up with an irritated finger. After another minute of silence, he looked back to his son, who was still frozen in horror.

"I know what you are thinking, and I assure you, there is nothing that you can do to try and change my decision."

"Then I wont go." It was rare for Ludwig to argue back at his father, but he felt that the current situation warranted the argument. He had dreamed of entering the military academy all of his life, and now his dream was being snatched away from him.

Aldrich's eye narrowed. Green iris' suddenly turned icy as he folded the newspaper with agonizing slowness, laid it onto the table, folded his hands onto his lap and gave his full attention to his normally compliant son.

"Ludwig, I have already enrolled you." Ludwig's face dropped with horror.

"When were you planning to tell me?" Ludwig swore, to whatever god was listening, that he would sacrifice his dog and _manhood_ to go to the military academy.

Aldrich raised a sleek blond eyebrow. "I just did." Despite himself, Gilbert snorted and was promptly glared at by two furious pairs of eyes. Gilbert ignored his immediate fears and focused on the similarities of his brother a father. Really, the only thing separating them in appearance was their eyes (Ludwig's were ice blue), and the 2.5 inches that Ludwig had on Aldrich. Both were tall, with blond hair and muscular but not beefy bodies. Ludwig wore his head slicked back, whilst Aldrich flouted convention by wearing his long, with a small braid down the right side.

"Gilbert, why are you still here?" Aldrich asked. To whoever may have been listening, this seems to have been a simple request, but Gilbert knew his father and so could here the ice beneath the surface.

"Going." Gilbert stood up and glided to the door, turning around and winking at his brother before disappearing. Gilbird, who had been sleeping on the table, twitched awake at the scraping of the chair, flew to the door and promptly smashed against it. The door opened, an albino hand scooped the dazed bird of the floor, the door closed, and the blonde Bielschmidts were left in stony silence.

"Vati, give me one good reason why I cant go to the _Offizierschule des Heeres_."

"Because you are already enrolled at the International University." Aldrich replied smoothly.

"Apart from that." Ludwig was fuming, trying desperately to conceal his temper behind a mask of cold indifference. It wasn't working.

"Fine, if you want another reason." Aldrich stood up to put his coffee mug in the sink, and with his back turned said, "I enrolled you two years ago."

Ludwig gaped. "_Two years?"_

"Ja."

"Oh mein Gott." Ludwig raised a hand to his head and pushed his neatly swept back hair further off his head.

Aldrich turned around and gazed at his son. There was no small amount of pity in his gaze, and he made sure that Ludwig saw this.

"You know that I tried everything I could to change what you wanted to do, what path you had chosen. There is a plan for you, and sadly joining the army isn't it."

Ludwig snorted and looked down his nose at his father. A sneer twisted his face into something ugly.

"I don't believe in fate." He said.

"You should." Aldrich moved past his son to the door. He wanted to catch Gilbert before his son did something awful, like insult the neighbors or convincing Gilbird that defecating in Alrich's sock drawer was a good thing.

"I would have thought," Ludwig said," looking over his shoulder at his retreating father, "that you of all people did not believe in such things."

For the first time since the argument had started, a small smile showed in Aldrichs face. "You'd be surprised."

When Ludwig heard the door close, he slumped into his seat, looking morosely at the floor. His dream had been to become a solider, since as far back as he could remember. Strength and pride, those were the things that guided the Bielschmidts. According to Vati, his grandfather had been in the Luftwaffen, and this was a source of pride to the young boys. Gilbert and Ludwig had no mother, or at least, none that they could remember. So it was really no surprise that both boys had developed strong masculine attitudes, without a mothers touch to smooth off the rough edges. Even their cousins girlfriend was as masculine as they were.

Ludwig thought back to his acceptance letter from the _Offizierschule des Heeres_, sitting on his desk next to his laptop. He wasn't a proud man, not like Gilbert, but he had wanted to frame it and put it on his wall. Now, it seemed like that was null and void, thanks to the machinations of his Vati.

"Yo, West! You okay?" Ludwig didn't turn his head.

"I will be." Ludwig felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned his head to see his brother looking down at him, for once his gaze not crinkled with either mirth or malice.

"It's not bad, you know." Gilbert pulled up a chair and sat down next to his brother. He was slightly put out by Ludwig's attitude. Usually he could rely on his brother to have a stick up his arse about everything, but now, there was this great cloud of depression hanging over him.

"Oh?"

"Ja. I was worried too."

"I'm not worried." Ludwig snapped instantly. Gilbert smiled. There was the brother he knew. Always in denial and quick to give orders.

"The people there are awesome." Gilberst sat back in his chair and smiled whimsically. "I mean I know that Roderich and Elizaveta go there, but there are people like Francis and Antonio."

"Ah yes, the Bad Touch Trio." Ludwig said, keeping his face deadpan, though he longed to smile at the nickname his brother and his closest friends had garnered.

"Yeah, I know, great nickname huh?" Gilbert grinned, seeing his brother looking slightly happier, although you wouldn't know it, looking at his face.

"I know you like working, and stuff like that," here, Gilbert pulled a face, "so the courses are really good." Ludwig looked even more interested.

"And," 'cherry on the cake' Gilbert thought, "it has a really good gym."

Although Gilbert knew that he had his brother hooked on that University by the word 'courses', it still erked him when his brother glanced at the clock, exclaimed "Schisse, I am 6 minuted late for my run!" and sprinted out the door.

Ludwig jogged into the woods that bordered his house, keeping pace and listening to Wagner through his headphones, allowing the testosterone to flow through his veins. He thought about what his brother had said, and what he knew about the university itself.

'It has an excellent reputation, and the academic standard is very high. I could do something there, there must be a course in military history or strategic planning. Knowing my luck, someone would run it with a grudge against Germany, but who knows, it might be worth it. I could really kick start my military career with a degree, something that would make me stand out. Ja, this could work out well.'

Ludwig jogged on, through the threes, all the while convincing himself that going to Bern was a good descision.

'I mean,' he thought, grinning to himself, 'how bad could it be?"

:

:

Looking at what was happening in front of the doors of his college dorm, Ludwig reconsidered that statement that he had thought to himself three months ago.

'This couldn't possibly get any worse.'

The scene that greeted the newest addition to the International University was this: a man with shaggy blond hair was dragging a mattress through the doors, a snarl on his face and a rifle slung over his shoulder. A young girl followed behind, alternatively pleading with the man to let go of the mattress and shouting threats at both him and the people watching. Behind her, a tall man wearing nothing but a sheet walked languidly out, smocking a cherry wood pipe and scratching at his hair, still half up off his head with gel.

"Vash, please stop!"

"Lili, no!" the blond man yelled, moving even faster to avoid his sister and the people staring.

"It was just a bit of fun, I swear it. Just something between me and Abel, not something that you need to know!"

"'Twas more than a bit of fun." the man behind her murmured.

"I swear I will burn this! To think that my little sister has been defiled on this piece of FILTH!" Vash dropped the mattress and gestured at it, as through it was a rotting corpse and not a piece of furniture.

"Vash, I'm eighteen, not a child!" At this, Ludwig raised his eyebrows. He personally would have pegged that girl as twelve.

"I don't care what age you are! The fact is that you had sex with HIM." A wild pointing figure at the tall man in the sheet who ignored Vash in favour of admiring at the hickey on Lili's neck.

"Fantastic sex!" Vash gaped at his normally meek sister, amazed that she had said that to him.

"Go baby!" shouted a man out of on of the windows, who was immediately pulled back inside by a dull eyed man wearing a cross hair clip. A slap and an exclamation of "ow!" told Ludwig what had happened to the man. The man then reappeared with his friend, a red hand mark on his cheek.

"Stay out of this Mathias!" Vash yelled, reaching behind him to his gun. At this, the people hanging out of the windows pulled back inside, although the man called Mathias was reluctant, and one man with a visible curl and a smiley face inside it was visibly dragged.

Ludwig decided the ignore the drama on the pavement and instead focused on trying to fin his brother, who was supposed to meet him at the front of the building. His father had dropped him of not 5 minutes ago, and now Ludwig was feeling a bit like an idiot standing on the lawn with boxes, a suitcase and three large dogs.

He was about to go and ask the screaming man for help as a last ditch attempt when his bother came sauntering around the corner of the building, followed by three people.

"Bruder! When did you get here?" Gilbert cried, coming up to Ludwig and slapping him on the back. Ludwig grimaced.

"On time. Where were you?"

"Oh, we were with Roderich watching what is going on here", Gilbert glanced at the shouting people and gave the bed sheet wearing man a thumbs up. The man returned with a nod, "when Elizaveta came back and kicked us out."

"Oh." Ludiwg didn't know what to say and so instead looked over his brothers shoulder at the group who were openly ogling him. Gilbert finally got the hint and decided to introduce them.

"Right, this is my brother Ludwig, younger to the awesome me." Ludwig inclined his head, and the shortest of the group sniffed and gave him a glare.

"This is Francis Bonnefoy." Francis was about as tall as Ludwig, with shoulder leangth blond hair and blue eyes. Evidently he had forgotten to shave that morning because his chin was supporting a messy scruff. Either that or his beard was for cosmetic reasons. Ludwig shuddered at the thought of allowing himself to go without his morning shave.

"Bonjour Ludwig, mon ami. I think we will be good friends, non?" Francis sauntered over to the frozen German and looked deep into his eyes. He gave a throaty chuckle when Ludwig failed to react or breathe and stepped back, looking pleased with himself.

Gilbert ignored what was going on and instead focused on his other friend. "And this is Antonio Fermented Carrots."

"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Hola!" The Spaniard blinked his green eyes and grinned at Ludwig, his teeth shining against his brown skin and even darker hair.

"Dude, you know I can never say your last name." Gilbert lamemted.

"That's okay. I never know yours." Antonio replied easily, still smiling at Ludwig. Ludwig squirmed uncomfortably. He wasn't used to such public displays of affection. Or happiness. Or emotion in general.

"Hey!" an angry voice said, and all heads including Ludwig's whipped to the third person standing behind Gilbert. He was also dark like Antonio, but his skin was lighter, and his eyes were dark brown and glaring at Gilbert. He also had a curl coming out of the left side of his head, which was at the moment bristled with anger.

"My little tomato!" Antonio flew to the persons side and tried to smother him with kisses, but was firmly punched in the stomach by the irate man. This didn't seem to deter Antonio, who continued to lavish kisses upon the man's knees.

"This grumpy sod is Lovino Vagras. He's Antonio's squeeze."

"I AM NOT!" Ludwig thought that Lovino was going to rupture something, his veins bulged so much.

"Just ignore him, he always says that. Anyway," Gilbert now turned his attention to Ludwig's luggage, something Ludwig was immensely glad of. Blackie, Berlitz and Aster all looked up from the ground, having fallen asleep in the sun, "time to get you to your room."

He was about to pick up a box when he straightened up and looked seriously at his brother. "Do you have your key?"

Ludwig frowned at the serious tone and held up a bronze key. "Ja, Vati gave it to me."

Gilbert's faced relaxed into a grin. "Oh good. I got all my shit in the hall and up the stairs before I realised I didn't have my key first time I came here." He bent down and lifted up a box, using his back to heave the weight up. Ludwig bit down hard on his tongue and said nothing.

"Oy, REST OF TRIO! HELP US!" Francis and Antonio looked back at their friend and then scrambled to help. Lovino trailed behind, muttering something about '_two_ potato bastards now."

By this point, the screaming match between Vash, Lili and Abel had ended, and Lili and Abel were now carrying the mattress back inside. Just when Ludwig passed Abel, his sheet slipped the final way off his hip and slumped gracefully to the floor, revealing the man in all of his glory. Ludwig turned bright red and immediately looked the other way.

"Abel, is that a _tulip_?" he heard Antonio ask, admiration colouring his voice.

"Yes." Lili answered for Abel.

"When did you get it done?" Gilbert this time.

"A while ago. I may have been high at the time, I can't remember." Abel had a deep, slow voice. However, he had an intelligence through that tone that made Ludwig immediately think that the man was at this University on a scholarship, not because he was poor and couldn't afford the tuition fees, but because he felt like it at the time.

"What did Bella think of it?" Gilbert again.

"She doesn't know."

"How could she not know? She's your sister, you too are really close!" Francis.

"She hasn't seen _all_ of me in years, she doesn't know about this."

Oh, now Ludwig had to know. He glanced quickly at Abel and then whipped his head back around, his face even redder.

Abel's tulip graced the man left buttock.

The procession continued inside, where the noise level got louder. Ludwig blinked at the transition from daylight into artificial light, and when his eyes had adjusted, he glanced around.

International indeed.

Upon entering the room, Francis had dumped a box and rushed off to sit next to a girl with flaming red hair and piercing green eyes, and two of the largest ginger eyebrows Ludwig had ever seen. She greeted him with a kiss, and went back to reading her book, ignoring the man who was now draping himself over her.

"Murron Kirkland." Gilbert answered Ludwig's unasked question. He was about to ask another question in line of "I thought Francis was a serial one night stander?" when a cry of "Get your froggy hands off my sister!" distracted him. A man with shaggy blond hair and the same green eyes stormed up to the couple. He was followed by a man with light brown hair and grey eyes, and a man with black hair and blue eyes. All of them shared monstrous eyebrows.

"Arthur, Lawrence and Patrick Kirkland. Brothers in arms against the likes of the French." Gilbert snorted and put down his box. Antonio and Lovino had already wondered off.

"Alright, intro's." Gilbert smacked his hands together and started to point people out. "You've seen the Kirklands, mass family wave to the small university. Somewhere here should be their brothers Buck and Aidan."

"More Kirklands?" Ludwig was starting to get a headache already.

"They're adopted. From Australia and New Zealand. Right, over there is Mathias Kohler and his boyfriend Bjorn Bondevik." It was the wild haired man who had shouted out of the window earlier and his dull eyes companion. Next to them sat a white haired young man with violet eyes, who had a puffin sitting on his shoulder. "The guy with the puffin is Emil, Bjorn's younger brother, and next to him is Jia Long Wang." Jia Long had dark skin, dark brown hair and thick brown eyebrows.

"Over there are the Baltics, Eduard von Bock, Raivis Galante and Toris Laur-something. And groping him is his boyfriend, Feliks." Ludwig had to look closely at the pink dress wearing person to see that he really was a man. It was only his voice that gave him away.

Gilbert continued the visual introduction. "Herucles and his bum chum Kiku." Kiku, who was Japenese, turned bright red. Ludwig thought they would get on very well. Herucles himself was snoring softly, a cat on his head making Berlitz growl softly. The cat hissed back and played with the double curl on the back of Herucles' crown.

"Over there is Yao Wang, and," Gilbert squinted and then shuddered, "Ivan Braginski." He said this in a low voice, as if saying the name louder would summon the devil. Yoa was a small man with long brown hair and light brown eyes, whilst Ivan was standing in shadow. All Ludwig could sense from him was that he was tall, had light hair and gave off an air of creepiness that radiated across the room.

The yelling from Arthur was abruptly stopped and muffled by something, and Ludwig turned to find a man kissing Arthur. The man himself had ash brown hair, and when he opened his eyes, they were brilliant blue. The man laughed and said, with a strong American accent "That shut you up."

"You…you wanker! You can't so that in public!" Arthur hissed, blushing.

"Can, did, will do so again." And to prove his point, the American swooped down and kissed Arthur firmly. There was a resounding cheer across the room, and various people clapped their hands, before turning back to what they were doing.

"Alfred F Jones." Ludwig didn't even need to look at his brother to have his question answered. However, he did look at his brother when Gilbert gave a delighted squeal and dashed off to meet a man hiding behind Alfred.

"Mattie!" 'Mattie' looked similar to Alfred, but had slightly longer hair with a corkscrew curl in the front and violet eyes. The glasses were making him squint, but that was only because he was wearing his brothers instead of his own. They had switched this morning to see what would happen and forgot to change. So far Alfred had kissed three people he thought was Arthur. The last person nearly shot him, which was impressive, seeing as he was also trying to drag a mattress down three floors.

Gilbert had succeeded in smothering Matthew, which left Ludwig standing in the middle of the foyer with a bunch of bags and dogs. Ludwig sighed and raised his eyes to the ceiling, wondering whether to start individually lugging boxes to his room or whether it was worth trying to do a balancing act.

"C'n I h'lp?" Ludwig turned at the voice and found himself staring into someones throat. He took a step back and looked into a face that seemed to have been carved from granite, so expressionless was it.

'Mein Gott, he's huge!' Ludwig throught. Secretly thought, he was impressed. It was rare to meet someone taller than himself, but it seems that the impossible had finally been achieved.

"Ja, danke. That would be a great help."

"No problem." A voice chirped out from behind the man, and someone much smaller emerged. They were an interesting contrast. The taller man had choppy blond hair and aqua eyes hidden behind stern glasses, whilst the smaller man had light blond hair and violet eyes, and a permanent smile on his face. The man picked up a box whilst the taller man grabbed two under each arm. Ludwig picked up the third with one arm and started to drag is suitcase behind him.

"Aster, Blackie, Berlitz, come." He instructed his dogs. The hounds followed, sniffing at their new environment and generally enjoying themselves.

"Awww, they're so sweet." The smaller man cooed, shifting the box to one arm and patting Aster on the head. Aster's tail wagged harder.

"Hm." The taller man grunted, eyeing the smaller man carefully. Wsa Ludwig wrong, or was that affection in his eyes?

"I think they're really sweet." Small Man smiled at Ludwig. Ludwig nodded.

"Wh't floor?" Tall Man asked, looking at the stairs.

"Two." Ludwig answered. He knew that floor and the room number by heart.

"Oh, same as us! That's great!" Small Man exclaimed. They started to climb that stairs, Small Man asking questions along the way.

"This your first year?"

"Ja."

"First year is great. It was for us, wasn't it Berwald?"

"Hm."

"What are you studying?"

"War Studies." Ludwig shifted the box in his grip and whistled for his dogs, who had started to wander off.

"Wow, so you want to be in the army or something?" Ludwig glanced at Small Man in surprise. That was a good deduction. Ludwig nodded.

"Floor Too." Tall man said, and pushed open the door to the floor. The smell of carpet cleaner filled Ludwig's nose, and he coughed.

"Yeah, sorry about that." Small Man laughed. "Arthur got drunk a few nights ago and tried to make mashed potatoes on our floor. The smell has only just come out."

"D'n't let h'm c'k." The warning was made all the more serious with Berwald's low growl. The group stopped outside Ludwig's room and Ludwig opened the door. Despite himself, he was nervous about the place he was going to be living for the next four years.

It was a nice room, with a desk by the window, a large bed in the corner, and his own en suite bathroom. There were also plenty of bookshelves, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, and enough space on the floor for three dogbeds.

"Nice." Ludwig said, dumping the first box onto the bed and sitting down. Tall and Small man set their boxes down as well.

"Oh, danke. My name is Ludwig, by the way. Ludwig Bielschmidt." Tall Man had a good handshake, no surprise, but Small Man also had a firm handshake, something that did cause Ludwig to raise his eyebrows.

"Berw'ld Ox'nst'rna."

"Tino Vainamoinen."

"We live in room 23." Tino said, smiling at Ludwig.

'We?" Ludwig thought, not for the first time. Some compulsion made him glance down at their left hands, and suddenly the mystery was explained to him. Silver rings adorned the fingers of both Berwald and Tino.

"Danke for the help, and I'll see you soon." Berwald nodded and guided his partner out of the room. With a click, the door was shut and Ludwig was left alone to his thoughts.

He spent the next hour cleaning and tidying, putting everything in its place, making sure that all of his book were upright and in proper order, and that his duvet was perfectly uniform to the bed. When everything was finished, however, he allowed his bones to relax, and he flumped down onto his duvet.

Ludwig didn't know what to make of his new University. He was nervous, and slightly disappointed, but at the same time, there was something about this place that drew him to the building. Ludwig didn't allow his heart to rule his head, and he always allowed his brain to rationalise his decisions before they were made. But at the same time, he was cautiously optimistic about this place. Ludwig felt a sense of belonging that he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

With that thought in his head, and his heart a little bit lighter, he turned off the lights, shut the curtains, and went to sleep.

:

:

He was woken by a sharp rap on his door, which became pounding when he rubbed his head and didn't get out of bed fast enough. He opened his door, glaring at the person standing in the light.

"Gilbert, what to do you?" Ludwig was seething with irritation, and so was speaking through clenched teeth.

"Kesesesese, don't you know what it is, Bruder."

"Nein, what?" But now Ludwig was more awake, he was looking at his brother. His brother, who was wearing his favourite sleeveless hoodie with the flag of Prussia on the back, his tightest black jeans, and his favourite shoes. Who was wearing a thick leather bracelet around his right wrist. His brother, who was self confident enough to wear a hint of black eye liner to make his eyes pop.

"Get dressed little brother," Gilbert's smile widened, "it's Freshers Night!"

:

:

**A/N Next time, first night of the new semester. Dancing, booze, and a certain pasta loving Italian will finally make his appearance!**

**If anyone has any confusion about anything so far, please don't hesitate to contact me, and I will try and answer anything to set your minds at rest.**

**One thing I have discovered writing this so far is how bloody difficult it is to write Ludwig! The man is virtually impossible to pin down. So if anyone has tips to make this job a little bit easier, then I would be very happy and in your debt!**

**Reviews makes that writer write faster, so give me your love!**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N, This is chapter 2. I have got the vague story in my head, and this is going to be slowly written over the weeks. I am so happy that people have reviewed for my work, but please, people, reviews sooth the writers soul.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, NOTHING!**

**Warning: Gilbert's potty mouth, drunken revelry, and the life of students galore!**

**:**

**:**

"What?" Ludwig glared at his brother.

"Fresher's Night!" Gilbert was disgustingly cheerful for 11pm. "Time to mingle little bro!"

"No." Ludwig said and was about to lam the door when Gilbert out his foot as a barricade. Ludwig glowered at his brother in irritation.

"I am not going anywhere."

"And yet," Gilbert sauntered into the rooms, glancing around and looking at the dogs, who had looked up to see their owners annoying brother in their new special space, "I am taking you there."

"And where is there?" Ludwig recognised the futility of trying to stop his brother doing anything without his consent. He followed his brother into his bedroom, and leaned against the wall, making sure that brother didn't do anything in his room that would constitute as something wrong.

"Friends."

"Obviously." Ludwig muttered. Gilbert had by that point managed to get into Ludwig's drawers and was rooting through, trying to find something that would accent his brothers masculinity whilst making him eye candy for the people in the building. Maybe is his brother got laid tonight, he could be able to get the stick removed from his arse and fit in more.

"And exactly what are you doing?" Ludwig asked, confusion colouring his voice.

"Where is your muscle shirt, the black one?" Gilbert held up a shirt he though was it, but he pulled a face and threw it into the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Ludwig raised his eyebrows at his brothers apparently new found fashion sense. When at home, his brother just threw on whatever was nearest. But now…

"Ahh ha! Found it!" Gilbert exclaimed and held up the aforementioned muscle shirt, looking at it with a critical eye. On the floor at his feet sat a green military jacket, pilfered from their fathers wardrobe and worn by his grandfather, or so the Beilschmidt boys had been told.

"I am not going anywhere."

"Oh yes you are."

"No."

"Yes."

"NO!"

"YES!"

"Gilbert, is he ready yet?" Antonio poked his head through the door, eyeing the two brothers squaring off against each other.

"No." Gilbert pouted.

"Hurry him up, we're going to miss the start and the beer."

"Nooooo, we cannot miss the beer!" Gilbert exclaimed. He started moving even faster, throwing the clothes that he had chosen at his brother, and grabbing the tube of gel, running into the bathroom and pulling Ludwig with him.

"Bruder, stop it!" Ludwig protested strongly, pulling on his arm. But for all that Gilbert was skinny as a rail, he had a wiry strength in his arms that told a different story, one of many hours fighting with others, both officially and not so.

"Get in there, and change. We are going out, and you are coming with us!" And with that, Gilbert pulled his brother into the bathroom, and shut the door.

What happened next was a whirlwind of activity, which involved much pulling on clothing, hands in hair, the squeezing to death of a tube of hair gel, and the ruin of a pair of pyjama pants. When all had finished, Gilbert exited the room with a triumphant grin on his face. Ludwig followed so afterwards, blushing to the roots of his hair. Francis, who had followed into the room after Antonio and Lovino, whistled.

"Your brother cleans up very well." He said, leering slightly towards Ludwig. Ludwig reared back, looking slightly shocked.

"Ja, always had done." Gilbert slung an arm around Ludwig's shoulder.

"Alright, Fresher's Night, here we go!" Antonio punched the air with his fist. The group traipsed out of the door, with Ludwig last out of the door. He shut of the lights and locked his door, making certain to clip his key to the loop of his trousers. He wasn't taking any risks.

They made their way slowly down the stairs, each one of them all thinking about the coming night, although only one of them was dreading it. Ludwig kept glancing behind him, all the time expecting an opportune moment to appear where he could sneak off back to his room and resume sleeping.

They exited the building, and Ludwig could see other lights on in the distance, where other buildings full of students were gearing up for Fresher's night. Despite himself, Ludwig started to feel excited.

"Right bro, we are going into the Watering Hole."

"Watering hole?"

"Local bar." Francis filled in. "Sadiq Adnan managed to rent it out for the night, specifically for the International Building." Ludwig looked sideways at his brother, who grinned at Ludwig.

"PhD student, is currently writing a thesis on how the Ottoman Empire rose and fell."

"It sounds a bit imperialist." Ludwig frowned.

Gilbert snorted and muttered. "You have no right to talk." Ludwig whipped around to glare at his brother, but Gilbert had already streaked ahead. The others ran up to catch him.

Soon, lights in the distance told them that they were getting close to the aforementioned Watering Hole. There were shouting and the heavy sound of music, the bass making Ludwig's bones rattle.

"Wait." Gilbert grabbed Ludwig's and swung him around to face the group.

"There are some vital rules to Fresher's Night here." Ludwig was about to laugh it off (as much as he did laugh) when he caught sight of the rest of the groups faces. They all looked deadly serious.

"Rule one: Party hard, or go home." Ludwig looked at Gilbert in astonishment.

"Rule two: drink like a man, and keep it down." Francis cut in. He leered once again Ludwig, who stood his ground this time, and glared at the Frenchman. Francis grinned and leaned back.

"And the most important rule of all," Gilbert leaned in close to his brother, making sure that the importance of his words got through to the taller man, "Do not let Raivis, Tino, Arthur and Ivan near the liquor and spirit table until after 2am. We will not be responsible for the consequences of what happens if they consume hard alcohol before that time."

"What?" Once again, Ludwig was tempted to laugh it off, but he saw the slightly nauseous expressions of the others, and decided not to know.

"Let's just say that the last time Arthur and Raivis drank hard liquor together, it involved three sheep, half a dozen geese, the university Libraries Special Collections, the computer room in the Homer building and two pairs of pants belonging to the Dean." Antonio said in a low voice, almost like he was passing on confidential information.

"Facebook was never the same again." There was a collective shudder and silence, whilst Ludwig tried to get his head around what such a scenario would have been like to witness. Gilbert suddenly perked up and slapped Ludwig across the shoulder.

"Time to get going little brother!" And with that, Gilbert raced into the building, followed by Francis and Antonio, who tried to drag a very reluctant Lovino with him. Lovino pulled his arm out of the grip and let his overly enthusiastic race inside. Ludwig was left with the grumpiest Italian that side of the Equator, and no topic of concersation.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to try and make conversation, or at least do something to break the oppressive silence, Lovino beat him to it.

"I've got my eye on you."

"I haven't done anything!"

"You stupid potato bastard, you are always thinking something." Lovino seemed to have a an unrivalled hatred of him, something that Ludwig felt had had done absolutely nothing to warrant.

"Fine." Ludwig refused to admit to this day that he huffed, but he did, and there was a witness to that.

"Fine." Lovino gave him an even harder glare, and was about to same something else of a scathing context, when Antonio ran back out of the Watering Hole, and ran back inside, this time dragging his extremely reluctant boyfriend with him.

Ludwig looked at the building where he felt could be the making or breaking of his time at University. He heaved a sigh and made his way inside, loosening his green jacket and breathing deeply.

What was going to happen was going to happen, and he may as well be drunk when it occurred.

:

:

The bass was even louder now he was inside the building. He could feel his eyes vibrating in his skull, and knew that the music was only going to get more annoying as the night went on.

Beer. He needed beer.

He made his way to a group of people, where he assumed the drinks tables were. He could see the back of Berwald's head. The man towered over everyone, so he was the first person Ludwig made for outside of his own family.

"No, T'no. No vodka yet."

"But I want some!" Tino whined. He was being pulled away by his arm, and despite Berwald's obvious strength, Tino was deceptively strong for his size. Ludwig squeezed alongside and grabbed a bottle of beer.

"'lo Ludwig." Berwald grumbled. He tried to haul Tino away again, despite loud protests from not only Tino, but the growing crowd.

"C'mon Berwald, let him have a vodka!" The American, Alfred, yelled, a grin on his face and a large hamburger in his hand. Ludwig raised an eyebrow at the unhealthy snack, but didn't comment. If Alfred wanted to pump his arteries full of fat, then by all means, he should be allowed to do so.

"Then you let Arthur near the whiskey, and we'll see how that turns out." Bjorn muttered into his cup. His brother, Emil, was sitting in a corner, already conversing with Jia Long. The quiet man was already leaning heavily on the other man.

Alfred shuddered. "Nope, nope I think I will leave the festivities till later." The American winked and sauntered off to find his boyfriend, whom Ludwig could see was already eyeing his red headed sister and her blond French suitor with utter distaste.

Ludwig shook his head at the chaos and made his way to the nearest corner and booth not occupied by another person. He felt swamped by all of the new people, something that had never happened previously. Usually he was alone when it came to having fun. He enjoyed a good workout, and reading military journals.

And baking cakes.

He sighed, not for the first time feeling lonely in a crowd, and went to sit down at a booth.

"Ve! I'm sorry!"

Ludwig jumped like he had had a live wire attached to his nerves. He whirled around, spilling half of his beer, and peered into the darkened booth.

A man was sitting in the booth, clutching a glass of wine and a plate of pasta. He was small, with auburn hair leaning more towards brown, and a curl on the right side of his head. He also had bright brown eyes, a small but lush mouth, and was currently wearing an expression of absolute terror.

"Waaaaaahh!" he yelled, nearly flinging the pasta at Ludwig. "Don't hurt me!"

"Hurt you?" Ludwig was confused. He had done absolutely nothing to frighten this man.

"Face…scary!" The man pointed a finger at Ludwig's face, all the while clutching at his glass of wine.

"I have done nothing to hurt you!" Now Ludwig was starting to feel a little bit freaked out. "Who are you?"

"My name?" The man stopped acting like a frightened rabbit and was now tilting his head to the side. "My name is-"

"FELI!" Both of the men looked to the side. Elizaveta was charging up the carpet, trying to get to 'Feli' before anyone else could commandeer him.

"Liz!" The man finally abandoned his glass of wine and flung himself at Elizaveta, who hooked her arms around the brown-headed boy and was now spinning around, channelling a helicopter and its wings. Ludwig looked over the spinning couple and could now see his own cousin making his way slowly towards him. Ludwig raised his eyebrows. His cousins cravat was missing. He glanced towards Elizaveta, who had stopped spinning, and he saw where the cravat had gone. It was being used as a headband.

"Elizaveta, stop using Feliciano as a deterrent for other people to move past."

"Oh stop Roderich." Elizaveta grinned over he shoulder at her boyfriend. "I was just greeting him."

"I know. Hello Feliciano." Roderich greeted Feliciano, who grinned happily.

"Hi Roderich!" Ludwig didn't think it was possible for a person to inject so much joy into their voice, but apparently he was wrong. "How are you? Are you still playing the piano? I went to a lovely concert this summer with Nonno and Lovi, and then I had lovely pasta! I was so nice, I almost didn't want to eat it, but I was so hungry that I had to, and it was so delicious, and I nearly at all of the pasta on the table, and then we- "

Ludwig looked at the small man, who was talking a mile a minute. The man was so happy, and so full of life. He was the complete opposite of Ludwig, in just about every way.

"Feli!" Ludwig turned to find his brother striding towards him, a maniac grin on his face. Under his slung arm was the quite man from earlier, the man that Gilbert had called 'Mattie'.

"Gilbert!" Feliciano whirled around, but instead on flinging himself at Gilbert like he had done, he focused all of his attention on Gilbird, who had tangled his feet comfortably in Gilbert's mop and was not letting go any time soon.

"Feli, my favourite little Italian!" Gilbert was by this time very drunk, as Ludiwg could now see. Mattie also had a rosy on his face, and his normally placid visage now supported a very large smile.

"Where have you been all day?"

"Art Hall." Feliciano didn't even glance down at Gilbert's face, so focused as he was on the bird.

"Hey," Gilbert dragged Feliciano over to where Ludwig was standing, frozen. "have you met my brother?"

"Brother?" Now Feliciano focused his attention of the tall German who was standing there, clutching his beer and not having taken a sip. Feliciano peered closely at Ludwig, for once his face not showing any joy.

Ludwig had never believed in fate. Those were words that he had spoken to his father, before he had come to this place. He had always made sure that he knew what to do should the unexpected happened. A back up plan, a back up plan to that back up plan, and one still in reserve. He had always made sure that nothing was left out of his control, and that he knew exactly what was going to happen.

But now.

As Feliciano peered at him, Ludwig felt his cheeks heat up. His heart sped up, and he was sure that the pupils in his eyes had dilated.

"Are you okay?" Feliciano asked, now peering closer to Ludwig. He was now leaning so close to Ludwig that he could feel the other man's breath on his face. Ludwig swallowed, and felt himself about to say something, when another voice cut through the oddly thick silence.

"WANT TO FIGHT ME, DA?" Everyone turned, to find a man, one of the tallest men that Ludwig had ever seen, standing on the table that had held the liquor, waving what looked like a water pipe in the air. He had a manic smile on his face, and was glaring down at Alfred, who was simultaneously shaking his fist at Ivan (for that was who it was) and allowing a now very drunk Arthur to use him as a prop so that he could stand.

"I WILL FIGHT YOU!" Mathias was walking, or rather weaving, back into the room, dragging an axe after him. Bjorn had long since abandoned him, to try and find a place to sleep and hopefully keep an eye on his brother. Not that this was needed, Emil having long since passed out and was now lying in Jia Long's lap.

"Nooooo, I want to fight!" Tino was leaning heavily in Berwald's arms, who himself was leaning heavily against a wall.

"What?" Ludwig gasped. Gilbert whooped and ran forward to join the melee of people now gathering around the table, with Mattie following. Elizaveta and Roderich had left, and now Ludwig was standing in the corner with an empty bottle of beer and an Italian that he didn't know what to do with.

"Ludwig, Ludwig, will they really fight?" Feliciano tugged at Ludwig's sleeve.

"I don't know."

"I hope that they don't." Feliciano wrapped his arms around himself, looking worriedly at the crowd, which was now growing bigger. Ludwig glanced down at Feliciano as he shivered. Without thinking, he took off his jacket and draped it around Feliciano's shoulders.

"Ve?"

"You looked cold."

"Oh." And now it was Feliciano's turn to blush slightly. "Thank you." He glanced shyly up at Ludwig through his eyelashes. Ludwig himself cleared his throat and glanced away. He shook himself. What was he doing? He had only just met that man and he was offering him his prize military jacket?

"What are you studying?"

"War Studies." Pause. "And you?"

"Oh, Art. I love painting. And pasta. But there isn't a course in pasta, so I chose painting."

Ludwig smiled. He didn't know why, but something about this man just called to him. He was just so alive.

Right. Ludwig shook himself. If he was going to feel like that, so soon after staring his new life at University, then he was going to start it nice a drunk.

"Alright, MOVE IT!" And using the bulk and strength that the gods had blessed him with, he shouldered his way to the table.

And more specifically, to the beer.

:

:

Ludwig didn't want to wake up. There was a brass band playing inside his skull, his mouth felt like something had died in it, and the person in his bed was stealing all of the covers.

Wait, person?

Ludwig shot up, straight as an arrow, and, ignoring the pounding inside his head, whipped the covers off of the person.

"Hey." The person said blearily. He too sat up, and was also running a hand through his hair, which was standing on end.

"Oh, hello." It was Gilbert's boyfriend. "Mattie."

"Matthew. Matthew Williams." Matthew Williams squinted in the general direction of Ludwig, waving his hand around to try and find his glasses. Ludwig, without turning his head, reached behind himself and took them from his bedside.

"Here."

"Thanks." Matthew put on his glasses and then took a good look at his bed mate. Ludwig knew that after a night of heavy drinking he did not look his best, but he thought that it did not warrant the squeak and shift backwards that Matthew did.

"Um…did we?"

"Oh God, no."

"Oh, thanks." After a quick glance down the bed, he stood up and stretched. Picking up his clothes, Matthew moved to the door. Just before he reached the door, he turned and looked at Ludwig.

"You know that the Dean is going to speak to us in 15 minutes, right?" And with that, he exited the room to find Gilbert.

"SCHISSE!" Ludwig had never moved so quickly in his life. He threw on his clothes, brushed his teeth so quickly he still felt the fuzz, and sprinted out of his door, after promising his dogs that he would walk them later.

He tore through the forum of the building, running as fast as he could towards the main University building. People from the other campus buildings looked askance at the rumpled German sprinting through the courts.

He tore into the building, frantically looking for the room where the introduction was taking place. He found the room, and, pleading to whoever was up there that he was not embarrassingly late, opened the door.

He was perhaps the best dressed person there. Everyone else in the room was slumped in their seats. Ludwig could see that Gilbert, the man called Ivan, Arthur, Alfred, Murron and Mathias were all supporting visible signs of having fought the previous evening. Francis was leaning back in his chair, a face mask over his eyes and he was snoring slightly. Patrick and Lawrence were each slumped on the stairs, with Lawrence having his arm slung around a blond haired man with a whirl to the side, who was drooling on Lawrence's jacket. Antonio and Lovino were lying across their chairs, each holding a hand. Abel, Lili, a blonde haired women that Ludwig assumed was Bella and Vash were all glaring at each other, every one of them with red eyes and black circles under them. The Baltics and Feliks were all passed out in their chairs, drooling on the desk in front of them. An older man with short brown hair and a smaller man wearing a white keffiyeh were sitting up an looking at the front, both of them blinking rapidly. And behind them, Kiku and Herucles were regularly nodding off and waking themselves up. Around the room, people were either asleep, hung over or desperately trying to keep themselves awake.

"Ludwig, over here!" Admits the sea of sleepy people, a hand was waving frantically. Ludwig blinked and made his way over to Feliciano, who was the only person looking at all awake this morning.

"Guten Morgan Feliciano." Ludwig muttered. The Italian man chirped and bounced in his seat. Ludwig groaned and hung his head in his hands. This was too early in the morning.

"I am so excited!"

"Why?" Ludwig looked sideways in confusion.

"The new Dean, I know him!"

Ludwig sat up, looking more interested. "Who is it?"

Feliciano opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted when a door on the stage opened and a man came through. He was tall, with tanned skin and bright brown eyes. His brown hair, which was cut short had two curls on his head, one on his right, like Feliciano, and the other on the top, like Lovino.

"Good morning!" 'This man is far too chirpy for the morning.' Thought Ludwig as he slumped back into his seat.

"My name is Romulus Vagras, and I am honoured to welcome you all to a new year at the International University." Because Ludwig had his head resting on the desk and his eyes closed, he did not see the man who entered the room after Romulus.

Which was why his head shot upwards and his mouth dropped when he heard that the Dean said next.

"And I would like to introduce my new Vice Principle, Aldrich Beilschmidt."

_Oh Mein Gott_.


End file.
